I found Tillie spraying down the walk, a rolling tumble of leaves and debris pushed along by the force of the jet. Water dripped from the feather palms, the rubbery scent of hose mingling with the odor of wet earth. Stepping-stones were tucked in among the giant ferns, though why anyone would want to walk back in there was beyond me. It looked like a shadowy haven for daddy longlegs. Tillie smiled when she saw me and released the trigger nozzle, shutting off the spray. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, her spare form giving her a girlish look even in her sixties.

"Did you ever get any sleep?" I asked.

"No, and I'm not going to stay in that apartment 'til the windows are fixed. I may have an alarm system put in too. I came out here just to busy myself. Hosing the walks is restful, don't you think? It's one of the pleasures of adulthood. When I was a kid, my dad never would let me have a turn."

"Have you been down to the police station yet?"

"Oh, I'll go in a bit, but I don't look forward to it."

"I went by a little while ago and filed a missing persons report on Elaine."

"What'd they say?"

I shrugged. "Nothing much. They'll do what they can. I ran into a homicide detective who worked on Marty Grice's murder. He says Elaine was supposed to come in for an interview and never showed up. Do you remember how soon afterward she went to Florida?"

"Well, I'm not sure. It was that same week. I do know that much. She was terribly upset about the murder and that's one reason she left. I thought I mentioned that."

"You said she was sick."

"She was, but she always seemed to have something wrong with her. She said the murder had her crazy with anxiety. She thought getting out of town would help. Hang on," Tillie said. She went into the bushes and turned off the water at the faucet, using the last of the water pressure to empty the hose before she coiled it up again. She emerged from the shrubbery, wiping her damp hands on her jeans. "Are you thinking she knew something about Marty's death?"

"I think it's worth looking into," I said. "Her side window looks right down into the Grices' entryway. Maybe she saw the burglar."

Tillie made a skeptical face. "In the dark?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't seem likely, does it, but I don't know what else to think."

"But why wouldn't she have gone to the police if she knew who it was?"

"Who knows? Maybe she wasn't thinking straight. People panic. They don't like to get involved in these things. Maybe she felt she was in jeopardy herself."

"Well, she was nervous," Tillie said. "But then we were all a bundle of nerves that week. You want to come in?"